Janet's Blog

When I was a baby, I lived with my Mom and Dad in a tiny little trailer house on the home place, a few steps away from the main farmhouse where my paternal grandparents lived with their two youngest daughters. The trailer, which was considerably smaller than many modern-day RVs, had a kitchen, living room, and bedroom, but only one sink, in the kitchen, and a toilet in a little nook all by itself. When any of us needed to bathe, we had to use the clawfoot tub in the farmhouse bathroom. One-year-old me, in our cramped trailer house. Around the time I turned two, Mom and Dad rented a farm a few miles away from the home place, just a mile outside of town. I am sure they were excited to move to their own place, with a real house, but they were not so excited to discover that the new house didn't have any indoor plumbing. They set out to remedy that situation as quickly as possible, but it takes some time to bury a septic tank and install plumbing in a house that has never had it before

  "Glory to God in highest heaven,  and peace on earth..."   It's that time of year again, Christmas in all its glory.   As we get ready to celebrate the birth of Jesus, it's time to reflect, once again, on the challenges and blessings of the past year. It's been another eventful year for us, one that is best shown in pictures, but I'll start with a few notable events. After spending a year and a half at Gardenside in Fairbury, M om contracted Covid for the second time in 6 months, and wasn't able to overcome it. She joined Dad in Heaven on April 17th, just four days shy of her 89th birthday.  Bill's Dad also had Covid this summer, and spent some time in the hospital before moving to Heritage temporarily, after he fell. He spent several months living with Bill's sister, JoAnn, and her husband, Bill, but he is back at Heritage now. He has some mobility issues, but he's doing pretty well for a man whose 99th birthday is fast approaching. Levi sta

Anna Elizabeth Tyler was born almost three weeks before her due date, at 10:53 a.m. on Monday, October 30th, 2023, in Columbus, Ohio. She weighed 5.45 pounds, and was 17.25 inches long. Her entrance into this world was more dramatic than we had hoped, since she had to spend eleven days in the NICU to monitor her breathing. But, after the initial scare, she is nursing well and growing appropriately at home. Anna at just a few days old Anna is the only one of our eight grandchildren who has spent any time in NICU. At one month of age, she is still small, but she is finally outgrowing her preemie clothes and moving on to newborn sizes. It's hard to be more than 1200 miles away from family when they need help, but contemporary forms of communication make that much easier than it used to be. Nevertheless, Bill and I were glad to join our daughter, Erin, her husband, Reed, our grandson, Will, and baby Anna, for Thanksgiving. We got to see for ourselves how their whole family is thriving.

I'm thankful for God's love that never ends. I'm thankful for family, I'm thankful for friends, And for all the blessings God gives every day. But these days, people like to downplay The role God plays on Thanksgiving Day. We’re thankful for turkeys and pumpkin pie, For football games and stuff to buy On Black Friday. But 'though we’re thankful, who do we thank? The stores, each other, ourselves, the bank? It's great to be glad for the things we've got, But I'll admit that I'm feeling rather distraught At the very thought  That God himself has no part to play In current traditions of Thanksgiving Day. We watch Macy's parade and football matches, Gather with family and friends in large batches; We eat and we drink until everyone's merry. (Or some families fight; that gets mighty scary.) God's name isn't mentioned in many a place. Have we forgotten who made the whole human race? Will we think of the One Who loves us the most? Will we th

Little Lucy LaRae Stobel arrived exactly one month ago, on September 7th, at 7:04 in the morning. Lucy weighed 6 pounds 15 ounces and, at 19 3/4 inches long, she was the shortest of all of the Stobel babies. She looks a lot like her siblings did at birth, with one glaring exception: She has visible hair. Specifically, she has red hair rather than the blonde hair that is so dominant in the family. Grandpa Bill's genes are coming through at last! Most people look at Lucy's siblings and say that they all look so much alike. Well, they all have blonde hair and blue eyes, but those of us in the family can see that the boys each have their own unique looks, while the girls, especially Lydia and Ruthie, look more alike. I will say that, except for her red hair,  Lucy looks more like her mother's baby pictures than any of the others ever have. The whole family was so excited when Lucy was born. She is greatly cherished by all of her brothers and sisters already. Meagan's first

Mom and I shared more than one eye disease. Because of our eye conditions and the resulting surgeries, we were both destined to wear ugly sunglasses for the rest of our lives. We both needed the kind that fit over our regular glasses and blocked out the light from the side as well as the front. We used to wear the really ugly, oversized kind that was distributed by ophthalmologists everywhere, because that's all that was available. In recent years, though, Walmart and a few other stores have carried a larger variety for the people like us who need specific sunglasses. My grandkids love the "jewels" that often adorn every available pair. Because the light really hurt her eyes when she wasn't wearing sunglasses outside, Mom always had multiple pairs: one pair in the car, one in her purse, one on the counter near the back door, and a spare for when she couldn't find the pair she was looking for. All of hers were black, without any extra adornment, but in recent year

It's been fifteen years since my middle daughter, Meagan, married Andy. Fifteen years of living and working in and around Gering, and five, almost six, children later, everyone they know would say that they are happily married. Their wedding was big and formal, and held in our church, like many weddings were then, at least here in Gering, with a sit-down dinner and dance afterward at the Civic Center. They both grew up here, and were well-known in the community, so many local people attended their wedding. In addition, they each had large extended families who were willing to travel quite a distance to be present for their big day. It was a memorable day, for sure. Fifteen years ago, our family was quite small. They both settled in to teaching, living in an old house on Andy's family's farm before building a house at the same location about ten years ago. Now, Andy continues to teach at Gering High School, while Meagan has been focusing her teaching skills on her own childr

I used to do it for Mom. I would post pictures on Facebook regularly because I knew she would want to see them. There was a time, not so long ago, when Mom would turn on her computer, play a game or two of Solitaire, and check Facebook to see what her 28 Facebook friends were up to. Mom was on Facebook for one reason only: to keep tabs on her family and a few very close friends. Mom with her greats, just a year ago.   Grandchildren are the crowning glory of the aged; parents are the pride of their children.   Proverbs 17:6 So, I posted pictures I knew she would appreciate: photos of wildflowers and western Nebraska landscapes, and especially, pictures of her grandkids and their kids, her greats. Then Mom would dutifully print the photos, often full-sized on a single sheet of plain old computer paper so she could make out the details. She showed the photos to Dad, who never learned how to use a computer because he thought it would consume too much of his time and, besides, he considered

Fifty Years used to seem like a long time. But now that it's been 50 years since I graduated from Fairbury High School, I can honestly say that 50 years is just a short period of time, only five brief decades. My classmates and I may have aged noticeably on the outside, but inside, we're pretty much the same as we always were--same basic values, work ethic, and philosophies. I hope, though, that we've gained much wisdom from our life experiences, as well as more empathy for others than teenagers usually exhibit.  I was pleased to be able to attend my 50th class reunion recently, and catch up with about 50 of my high school classmates. It was so interesting to hear about their lives and families. And, as one classmate stated, we heard hardly any conversation about health or politics. I know that our political views range from one extreme to the other, and I'm sure that many of us have faced various health challenges over the years, but those things faded to the backgroun

Doves and pigeons, pigeons and doves: ever since I was a little girl, I’ve noticed them. In my experience, I've found pigeons to be city birds, while doves live in smaller communities or in the country.  Years ago, even centuries ago, people hunted both birds for food. Even now, they are still hunted in some parts of the world.  Over the years, I’ve been acquainted with a few people who hunt doves, and I’ve known some who shoot pigeons because they are considered to be nuisance birds, but I've never known anyone who hunts pigeons to provide food for their families. I’ve enjoyed eating pheasants, quail, and wild turkey, and I’ve suffered through meals of duck and goose, but I’ve never eaten either pigeons (sometimes called squabs) or doves.   In the US, pigeons are not currently a popular food because they can’t be raised commercially in large numbers, making them too expensive to eat. I suspect the same is true for doves. Additionally, even country pigeons are associated with

Last week, I was hiking at the Crane Trust Nature Center near Wood River, just off I-80 at mile marker 305. I know it's too late to see any Sandhill Cranes, but the Crane Trust, with its broad paths and arching footbridges, is still a remarkable place to hike along the Platte River. That cool, blustery day, I was surprised to find myself surrounded by flocks of red-winged blackbirds, flitting around too fast for me to zoom in for a good picture. They seemed to be rather leery of me--or, maybe they were darting after a swarm of insects that I couldn't see. (Flying insects are their preferred source of food.) The day was overcast and dreary, so my camera failed to pick up the red stripes on each bird's wings, but you can trust me when I tell you they were red-winged blackbirds. After all, red-winged blackbirds were the first wild birds I can remember watching. I was probably three or four years old when Mom would load my baby brother and me into our sky blue Ford so we could

The other day, I was walking with my dog, Jackson, when he stopped to sniff at a rather large pile of dog poop in the grass next to the sidewalk. Without giving it much thought, I said, "Jackson, we don't need to sniff other people's poop!" Jackson, a Shih tzu/Poodle mix, is pretty spry for 15 years old. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. To start with, my words made no difference at all to Jackson, who was just doing what comes naturally for all dogs. Secondly, I wasn't joining Jackson in his sniffing, so the word "we" was completely inaccurate. And, of course, the poop he was sniffing was dog poop, not people poop. Yet that whole incident, trivial though it was, got me to thinking... Dogs sniff things, including random piles of poop, in order to learn something useful about another animal or a food source. Their noses are much more sensitive than humans' noses, so their sense of smell is a primary way fo